


Ice to Meet You, Miss Idol

by whoneedsapublisher



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!, RWBY
Genre: F/F, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoneedsapublisher/pseuds/whoneedsapublisher
Summary: When Winter ends up travelling to Anima for a Grimm hunt, she wasn't expecting anything except combat. And while she got plenty of combat, she found something else in a small seaside town.





	1. Winter and Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raithfyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raithfyre/gifts).



> So I was talking to my good friend Josh (raithfyre/@JkaplanAW) a while back, and he said to me “Publisher-chan,” (Publisher-chan is his cute nickname for me) “I have a confession to make.”
> 
> And of course, I said “Sure, Josh, what is it?”
> 
> So he said “Do you know why I never finished that ChikaRiko fic I told you I was definitely going to continue?”
> 
> “Well, I figured it was because you were busy working professionally as a writer for Alienworks and Studio Élan on such fine titles as Highway Blossoms and The Heart of the Woods,” I said, making a note to include links to https://twitter.com/alienworksdev and https://vnstudioelan.com.
> 
> “What? No, no,” he said. “That’s not why. I’m actually so insanely talented that I can write like four amazing things at once, how else would I be working for multiple studios simultaneously? No, the real reason is… I actually ship something more than ChikaRiko. I have a new Riko OTP.”
> 
> “Ohhhh,” I said. “Season 2 converted you to YohaRiko?”
> 
> “No, no,” he said. “Not that. It’s Riko x Winter.”
> 
> “Winter?”
> 
> “Yeah. You know, Winter Schnee. From RWBY. Listen, I know I’m asking a lot, but… could you write my OTP for me? For my birthday? Please?”
> 
> And I smiled and said “Yeah Josh, of course.”
> 
> Happy Birthday Josh!

It had been a very long week for Winter. The Atlesian military was getting jerked around by General Ironwood’s latest fit of paranoia, and in less than seven days she’d been to Mistral, Vale, and back to Atlas, chasing shadows of White Fang involvement that lead to nothing but minor groups or dead ends. Not that this didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to put up a fight. Nothing particularly life threatening, given the gulf in skill between the foot soldiers of the Fang and a trained special forces member, but _any_ fight could be your last. Soldiers who forgot that made careless mistakes and died for nothing. Between the constant fighting and constant travel, by the time Winter reached her apartment for some well-deserved leave, she was ready to collapse.

As she undid her locks and pushed open the door, she was met by a sound that immediately improved her mood. A peppy pop song rendered flawlessly on piano floated through the home as Winter closed the door behind her and leaned against it, resting for a moment in anticipation of what came next.

Sure enough, singing joined the sound of the piano within moments of the door closing, and Winter closed her eyes and let the music flow over her, the cheerful lyrics soothing the stress and frustration that had seeped into her bones.

She stayed that way for what must have been minutes, just listening. Eventually, the last notes floated down the hall and a silence fell over the home again.

A figure appeared in the doorway and smiled angelically. “Welcome home, Winter,” Riko said.

* * *

Theirs had been a quite unlikely meeting.

Winter was no stranger to concerts, certainly. As the former heir to the Schnee dust company, she’d attended no end of classical music performances put on by some of the finest musicians in all the kingdoms. Despite the talented players, however, she could hardly have claimed to truly enjoy many of them. The harsh reality was that for the elite of Atlas such events were less for the appreciation of music or skill than they were for the sake of _being_ there. Instead of discussing the pieces or the musicians after the concert, the rich and successful took part in an endless stream of high class sniping and politicking that left a bad taste in Winter’s mouth.

So when she was half invited, half ordered to attend a concert with some fellow squad members, she had expected much of the same. The brass trying to make a show of power and forcing the rank-and-file to play along. Perhaps there was a foreign dignitary there, or a politician who the generals felt wasn’t sufficiently supportive of the military. Or maybe it was something infinitely more petty, like an ex-girlfriend of a general that he was trying to impress.

So she had been surprised when she discovered that instead of attending some stuffy event in a grand theatre, they were going to a noisy and raucous concert for an idol group. She was even more surprised when she realized that the only agenda at work was that of an officer who desperately wanted a fellow fan to talk about the band with.

He found one in Winter.

Despite coming in with low expectations, and truthfully a little bit of snobbish contempt for idols in general, Winter had been completely enchanted by Aquors. They were a group from Anima, who had originally started their group to try to save their home, a small fishing village on the coast that didn’t have the people or the hardware to defend themselves from the new predatory aquatic Grimm that had started appearing in their waters. The band’s massive success had generated enough money and enough exposure for the village to afford enough hunters to clear out the worst of the Grimm, and with their families safe, the band had started touring the kingdoms.

By the time Winter saw them, they had been performing for years, and she was stunned by the polish and complexity of their dance routines. As a soldier, she could appreciate the athleticism on display, and as a (now disowned) noble, she could appreciate the quality of their music. But even beyond that, there was another thing about Aquors that caught her eye.

Riko wasn’t dancing the lead in the first concert Winter saw. It was all the more telling, then, that she was still the one that Winter ended up watching song after song.

She was captivating. Her long ruby hair, her vividly gold eyes- she was full of all the colour that Winter lacked. Not that her companions weren’t colourful as well, with all the bright outfits they were dressed in, but Riko seemed to shine brighter than all of them.

Watching her and Aquors Winter felt, for the first time, truly glad to have come to a concert.

After the concert finished, there was no “meet cute”. Winter didn’t sneak backstage. She didn’t, by pure chance, run into Riko on the way out. She left with the rest of the squad, and had an enthusiastic discussion with the officer who had brought them along, to the utter shock of her fellow soldiers.

She considered herself a fan after that, but her days were busy. She would occasionally watch a video of a new song of their on her scroll, and often listened to their music, but she didn’t attend any more concerts- it wasn’t if she had enough control over her leave to really schedule such a thing. On recordings, Riko seemed somehow less brilliant than she had that night. The shine that Winter remembered from on stage was absent from their music videos and interviews. Winter convinced herself that Riko, while certainly an attractive young woman and a talented performer, was nothing more. She must have just been swept up in the mood of the concert, she told herself, and imagined the oddly entracing effect Riko had on her. And so, while she didn’t _forget_ Aquors or Riko, the strong pull she’d felt at the concert faded, and her mind returned to battle and tactics.

* * *

A year passed.

Winter was in Anima on a special mission, a joint effort by Mistral and Atlas to destroy a particularly fearsome nest of Grimm. They were a new breed of Death Stalker, smaller and faster with golden claws that matched their stinger. They proved hard to exterminate, showing a distressing level of cunning and a tendency to ambush. While the squad managed to prevent any deaths, even the two countries’ elites suffered casualties, with broken bones and deep cuts removing more and more of their number from active combat.

Finally, after weeks of hunting, they cornered the last of the Grimm in a canyon not far from the coast, the creatures’ retreat cut off by a ridge detonated by advance scouts. By that point, Winter’s team had less than a dozen able fighters left. Between the wounded and those guarding the wounded, they’d lost more than half of their initial strength, and many of those still on the front lines were nursing minor injuries and pushed to the limit by exhaustion.

There were still more than thirty of the scorpions lefts. The Death Scuttlers, as they had come to call them, might be smaller than a Death Stalker, but that didn’t mean they were small compared to a human. Their tails still arced up to fully six feet in the air, and they still had the pure bulk to crush careless fighters against the walls of the ravine. Wary of the danger, Winter’s group entered the canyon slowly and carefully, driving the scorpions out into an open area with their backs against the rubble.

While grouping them all together ensured that none would escape and that they weren’t about to be swarmed from behind, it was not ideal for actually _fighting_ the creatures. Clustered together, they adopted a formation similar to a crude phalanx, making it difficult to engage past their claws.

Using a pinch of her dwindling dust supplies, Winter sent a cluster of icicles into the center of the swarm. Predictable, the creatures scattered to avoid them, and with their formation broken, the team closed in, breaking into smaller units to engage the fleeing Grimm. Winter, however, was left alone. The units had been determined ahead of time, and their commander, who Winter strongly suspected had a grudge against her, had reasoned that less of the Scuttlers were likely to rush straight at the source of the attack that they were running from. He had been wrong. Five scuttlers charged directly at her. Using the last of her dust, she flung one more volley of icicles at the approaching Grimm. Closer than before, the two Grimm in the center failed to get away in time, impaled by the spikes and vanishing into darkness.

Winter was left with three Scuttlers, no dust, and no backup.

With what little time she had before they finished closing the distance, Winter dropped to one knee and formed a summoning glyph. Pressed for time, she summoned the only creature small enough to bring out in time but fearsome enough to help: another Death Scuttler, one she had slain in the last skirmish. Sending it at the Scuttler on the left, she quickly created another glyph to throw her to the side, narrowly avoiding the stinger of one of the two remaining Grimm. As the summoned Scuttler locked its claws with one of the real ones, the other two bore down on her with their claws at the ready. Winter recognised one of them as the one that had crushed the leg of Mistral Special Forces member a week ago, the Grimm now sporting a jagged scar across the left side of its body from where the faunus’s sword had managed to score a hit.

As she landed, Winter created a glyph behind the two Scuttlers. Pulling the trigger on her saber, she pulled out the second sword as she weaved a third glyph at her feet, darting forward as they closed in. Accelerated by her glyph, she drew up her one sword to turn aside a plunging stinger as she sliced with the other blade, cleaving through one of the Scuttlers and slaying it. Not giving the other time to react, she rebounded off the glyph behind them and flew at the remaining Scuttler, the scarred one.

Unfortunately, it was fast and canny. As she hurtled towards it, it swiped viciously with its claws, forcing her to bring up both swords to defend herself, the force behind its swings knocking her back, sending her skidding across the loose dirt and rocks that littered the floor of the canyon. As she regained her footing, the scarred Scuttler pressed forward, forcing her on the defensive as she parried blow after blow from its deadly stinger, feeling her aura drain with each strike as her blade vibrated with the force of the strike.

This was bad. If she kept up at this pace, it would overwhelm her. Her only chance was to force her way onto the offensive again.

Diving to the side of the next attack, she rolled as she set up of a series of glyphs. The first sent her spiralling into the grimm for an attack that it turned aside. The second let her rebound from behind, scoring another cut in its back as it reared up in pain. And the third sent her flying towards it again as it stabbed forward in a blind rage. The stinger flew towards her as she flew towards it. Would she reach it before the stinger reached her? Or would it smash her out of the air, cutting through the remnants of her aura and crushing her?

She was just fast enough. Flying under the stinger as it drove down behind her, she drove both swords into the creature’s head, feeling the blades sink deep into it as the momentum of her charge forced it back. Then it vanished, and Winter crashed to the ground.

Righting herself unevenly, Winter had only a moment to process the feeling of her summon disappearing. On reflex, she spun around and blocked high, deflecting the strike of the stinger, but the third Scuttler had gotten too close. A heavy claw swung towards her side as she made a snap decision. Bringing her offhand sword up a bad angle, she created a glyph to her left as the claw slammed into her right, pushing her guard back and throwing her through the air as she felt her aura falter and her bones creak.

But her aura held just enough to maintain her glyph, and she flew directly into it, the force of it propelling her into the Scuttler, left wide open by its attacks and easy prey for her swords as she dashed past it, slicing it before landing clumsily behind it, hearing the reassuring noise of it disintegrating behind her.

Panting, she lifted herself up on her sword to survey the area around her. The remainder of the team was still in combat against a half dozen Death Scuttlers who had managed to regroup. Wincing at how her ribs ached when she moved, she got to her feet and made her way over to them.

“Ah, Agent Schnee,” said Izarin, waving as he saw her come over. Izarin was a hugely built Atlas agent who used a hammer, and he was currently sporting a deep looking cut on his forehead and leaning on his hammer a few feet from the stalemate with the remaining Grimm. “You look rough.”

“Five of them went for me,” Winter said, her tone slightly strained from the pain in her side.

“Good job getting out in one piece, then,” Izarin said, glancing over at the other members who were hesitantly circling the tight formation of Scuttlers. “Don’t suppose you’ve got enough dust left to scatter them again?”

“No,” Winter said, sighing.

“Figured,” Izarin grunted. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

Hefting his hammer, he glanced over at her. “I reckon if you give me a glyph, I can smash that one in the center and break their formation.”

“I think I can manage… one more glyph,” Winter said, not entirely sure that it was true.

Raising his voice, Izarin called out to others. “Get ready to go in right after me!” he called. “Okay, Schnee, let’s go.”

Taking a deep breath, Winter focused the last of her aura. “Three… two… one… now!”

Summoning the glyph, she launched Izarin at the cluster at the same time as his own semblance flared to life, encasing him in metal right as he started a spin. His strike crushed the lead Scuttler into the dirt, and as the other Scuttler’s stingers bounced off him, the other agents crowded in to clean up the others.

Within minutes, the remainder of the Scuttlers were dead.

Winter dropped to one knee, utterly drained. The rest of the team wasn’t in much better shape. Izarin’s semblance had run out before the others finished off the Scuttlers, and he’d been badly gored. One of the Mistral agents was holding an arm that was dripping far too much blood for a shallow cut. Another was lying on the ground with a few others gathered around her anxiously. Even those standing were out of aura and nursing various small injuries.

Well, all but one.

The commander, a pompous Atlas officer, had barely participated in the fight. His aura was completely fine, and Winter could feel the contempt of the squad when he spoke.

“Good job, men,” he said, despite the fact that Winter was far from the only woman in the group. “We’ve done it.”

 _We_. Ha.

“We’re going to regroup before we head back to Mistral,” he continued, oblivious to the rolling eyes and under the breath scoffs. ”Once we reach the village, you’re all on leave for three days to get some R&R.”

Some people perked up at that, but it was obvious that for a lot of them “on leave” was meaningless, since they’d be spending it in medical either way.

“Let’s move out.”

Winter struggled to her feet. Time to go.

* * *

Barely held together, their group limped towards the nearest settlement, a village on the coast called Uchiura. For some reason, the name seemed familiar to Winter. Which was odd, because she was sure she’d never been to this part of Anima before. Maybe she’d heard it in a briefing.

They booked all the rooms in the rather small inn from a flustered innkeeper who didn’t look as if she’d even seen this many customers at once, and send the most badly wounded to local hospital. Most of the rest just went to their rooms, collapsing onto their beds in exhaustion. Winter, despite her aching ribs and collection of shallow cuts, decided that she’d rather relax on the beach. After setting down her bag in the room she’d been assigned, she left the hotel and headed towards the waterfront, bringing her weapon with her. They might be in a town, but it was a town outside the kingdoms. Grimm were always a lingering threat.

As she walked through the streets of the town, something strange struck her. Despite never being in the town before, parts of it seemed almost familiar. She was sure she’d seen the rickety general store somewhere before, and one or two of the streets she walked down rang a bell. It was slightly uncanny.

As she reached the beach, something else struck her.

...She didn’t have a swimsuit.

* * *

It had cost her more than a few lien, and certainly a few lien more than it was worth, but as Winter lazed on a comfortable lounge chair with a garish umbrella shielding her from the sun, she felt that it was money well spent. After weeks of sweating in a heavy uniform in dense forests with her life on the line, the cool sea breeze on her skin was heavenly.

She might have wished for a slightly different swimsuit, however. She normally preferred slightly more modest swimwear, both in design and colour, but the selection at the rundown local beach shop she’d gone to had been... limited, to say the least. Even when she had made it very clear to the owner that he would regret it if he was hiding stock to try and force her hand, the only thing in her size they had was an ostentatious black bikini that Winter felt entirely undressed in even for sunbathing.

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be anyone around to ogle her. The beach was essentially abandoned, leaving Winter to close her eyes and relax as she listened to the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The tide wasn’t very strong, so it was a subdued sound, like the burbling brooks that had captivated her when she’d first visited Vale forests as a child. But here, there was no overbearing family to scold her for being distracted. Here, she could just sit back and enjoy herself. She had no responsibilities other than letting her aura slowly fix her up. And the best way to do that was to be still and calm.

* * *

It was probably an hour later when Winter first noticed that she wasn’t alone on the beach any more. The sounds of the surf had been joined by the sound of distant splashing. Probably someone swimming in from another part of the beach, doing laps or searching for shells.

She didn't bother to open her eyes. A frosty conversation with a local who might well spend half of it staring at her chest was hardly her idea of a relaxing afternoon. Perhaps if they thought she was napping they'd leave well enough alone.

For a while, it seemed to work, until another sound rang out across the beach.

The roar of a Grimm.

In an instant, Winter's hand was on her weapon and she dived to the side reflexively, rolling to her feet in the sand with saber drawn.

But there was no attack aimed at her. No giant monster crashed into her abandoned chair, and no imposing beast loomed in front of her. She scanned the beach rapidly, but the dunes were entirely empty of life.

Then she spotted something. About forty meters from the shore, someone was swimming desperately towards the beach... with a hulking fin behind them, rapidly closing the distance.

Winter cursed her luck.

It had been less than half a day since the fight with the Death Scuttlers. Her aura had barely recovered, she was still injured, and she had no dust with her. Worst of all, the enemy was aquatic, so without dust she would barely be able to engage it without glyphs or summons, both of which would take precious aura.

She bit her lip as the distance shrunk between the swimmer and their pursuer. No time to go for help. Before she could get anywhere near the inn where backup was, the Grimm would overtake the local and that would be that.

If her commanding officer was here, he'd tell her that the safety of Anima citizens was not their responsibility. Her best course of action was to use her glyphs to retreat towards backup and accept the sacrifice of the unlucky local.

Winter's grip on her sword tightened. To hell with her commanding officer.

Pulling herself into a windup stance and gritting her teeth, she drew her sword behind her and began forming a glyph. Normally she could have used her glyphs to run up to the person across the water, repel the Grimm, and launch the two of them back to shore where the Grimm would be at a disadvantage. Right now, though, she simply didn't have enough aura. She had two, maybe three strong glyphs left before she would be drained completely.

As the Grimm grew dangerously close to its prey, she activated her glyph and shot forward, kicking up a cloud of sand behind her as she rocketed across the beach. Within seconds, she'd reached the waterline, and she cut through the water like a knife, her wake breaking into two huge walls of water as she flew at the Grimm. Passing over the fleeing woman, Winter swiped at the fin, and the grimm let out a roar as Winter's sword sliced through it. Wounded by far from disabled, the Grimm started a dive, but Winter was one step ahead, aiming glyph directly downwards at the fin and dashing forward for another empowered slice.

As soon as she broke the surface of the water, she realized she'd made a fatal error. Seeing the fin, she'd assumed the grimm was like a shark, with a fin central to its body. She had been gravely mistaken. The fin was only the top of a tail. Winter's strike, instead of bisecting the creature and punching straight through the middle of its body, only sliced through the tail, injuring the creature but not killing it.

As the creature spun to face her, infuriated by its wound, Winter made a split second decision. Stuck at a greater depth than the Grimm, if she let it attack she was done for. A single strong blow would deplete her feeble aura completely, leaving her underwater and blocked from surfacing with no feasible way to fight back.

Her only option was to use the very last of her strength to fire herself back to the surface and attack the Grimm, all in one blow.

If she hit it, she was sure she could strike a fatal blow. But if she missed, she'd be left off balance and auraless, and would end up caught and killed before she could swim to shore.

It was all or nothing.

Forming the final glyph, Winter felt her aura fall away as she zipped towards the Grimm like a torpedo. It tried to dodge to the left… but Winter had predicted it. The tip of her blade struck it dead center in the forehead, and the grimm exploded as Winter blew through it and broke the surface.

But her momentum was too great. Carried by the force of her charge, she shot out of the water and into the air. Reaching the apex of her jump, she momentarily hung in the air, then plummeted back down to earth at a worrying speed. With no glyphs to slow her and no aura to shield her, she hit the surface of the water hard, knocking the breath out of her as she crashed back under the waves.Underwater and out of air, she feared that she’d made her last miscalculation. But luckily, the impact hadn’t broken any bones, and she managed to swim upwards, her lungs burning.

Battered and bruised, but alive, Winter surfaced again, gasping for breath. With a new ache in her already pained body, she awkwardly swam back to shore. It was a far cry from the elegant strokes she usually swam with, but it successfully delivered her to the beach, where she stood shakily to take a proper look at the would-be Grimm snack that she'd just risked her life for.

Then she blinked a few times and looked again.

“Thank you so much for saving me!” The woman said, bowing rapidly.

“ _Riko?_ ” Winter asked, shocked. She’d never imagined that she’d recognise the person she’d saved. She was in the middle of nowhere in a town she’d never visited, after all. But even if she’d somehow known that it would be someone she knew, she could have listed off names forever and never even considered Riko’s.

Riko looked up, slightly confused. “Um… do I know you?” she asked hesitantly.

Winter composed herself. Well, as much as she could with her aching body barely able to stand. She tried to draw herself up to her full height and take a proper military bearing, but she only managed to pull herself into a slightly more vertical slouch.

“No, we haven’t met. I recognise you from your musical career. I’m acquainted with your work,” Winter said primly. “I hadn’t expected to run into you, I must admit.”

“Oh!” Riko said, surprised. “Um, thank you for being our fan!” she added, bowing again. “I’m around here a lot since we stopped touring together.”

Suddenly, Winter realized why the village had seemed strangely familiar.

It was the hometown of Aquors.

She’d recognised the name because she’d read it in an article about them. The locations looked familiar because they’d filmed music videos there. Of course.

“Oh. Yes,” Winter said, trying not to let it show on her face how stupid she felt. “You live in this area.” She cleared her throat. “Well. I suppose I haven’t introduced myself. Winter Schnee, Atlas Special Forces,” she said, managing a salute. “I’m here as part of a Mistral/Atlas joint mission in the area. We sustained casualties during the mission and came here to recuperate before returning to base.”

Winter vaguely wondered if she should be telling Riko this. None of it was classified, but she had a feeling her commander would balk at the notion of informing civilians of anything they didn’t need to know.

Riko, however, didn’t seem to be carefully analyzing her words for hints about the movements of foreign military agents. In fact, Winter’s words in general didn’t seem to be what she was most focused on. Unless Winter was very much mistaken, she appeared to be…

Checking her out?

Winter found it hard to believe, but she trusted her instincts and her senses. Riko’s eyes were darting across her body, and she was turning a little red, doubtless at how immodest Winter’s swimsuit was.

What a very surreal experience.

On the one hand, it was a little flattering that a celebrity was taking notice of her. On the other hand, it was exactly the kind of interaction she had been trying to avoid by faking a nap.

And either way, standing here was starting to grow unbearable.

“We should go,” Winter said, managing to walk towards her things without limping too obviously. “It’s not safe for either us to be on abandoned beach with my aura drained.”

Riko flinched, apparently aware of how dangerous it had been for her to go swimming alone. Well, Winter wasn’t her mother. It was none of her business what reason Riko had to do something so reckless. She was hardly in any place to lecture her after such a clumsy rescue effort. Certainly she’d displayed a bit of recklessness herself.

Winter gave Riko a brisk nod before turning to focus on not falling over as she navigated the trench her charge had made in the sand.

As she efficiently packed together her beach supplies, she heard footsteps approaching. Clicking the umbrella shut and setting it down in her bag, she turned to find Riko in front of her, quite red and fidgeting a little.

“Yes?” Winter prompted, when Riko just stared at her instead of speaking.

“Would it be alright if I took you for dinner?” Riko managed, clenching her hands together. “To… thank you for saving me.”

Winter blinked. She had certainly not expected this.

It was possible that Riko did just want to pay her back by treating her to dinner. It wasn’t an unusual way to express appreciation, especially when you were a local and the person you were thanking was not.

However, Winter was no a fool. She had been raised in a cutthroat world of feints and insinuation, and she was not so boorish to only look at the surface of what was being said. Riko had been checking her out, and now she was nervous and blushing. It was not a difficult puzzle. Riko was asking her asking her on a date.

If she thought the previous situation was surreal, this truly put it to shame.

“...Very well,” Winter said, her tone clipped. “I am not available this evening, but perhaps two days from now when I am more recovered, you can show me where there is to eat in this area.”

“Okay!” Riko said, smiling.

Yes, there was no mistaking it, Winter thought, as Riko scrambled to enter her number into Winter’s scroll. She hadn’t been wrong on that day when she saw that first concert. The videos later hadn’t shown her the truth, they had just failed to capture Riko as she was in person.

She really did shine brighter than anyone else in Aquors.

 


	2. Date Night

It went without saying that Winter’s commanding officer was less than overjoyed when she returned in worse shape than she’d left. As she had suspected, he took a very dim of view of her injuring herself and risking her life to aid a civilian.

“I gave you a mission, Schnee,” he barked. “That mission was _rest and recuperate_ , not go off half-cocked to aid daredevil locals swimming alone on a beach with Grimm!”

Winter said nothing, standing rigidly to attention despite the pain and staring stoically ahead.

“You are confined to barracks for the next three days so that you don’t get it in your head to go falling out of any damn trees to save local cats! Dismissed!”

‘Barracks’. Winter suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and saluted crisply. “Yes sir,” she said, no hint of her contempt leaking into her voice.

Taking up her now useless bag of beach accessories, she limped to her room and collapsed onto her bed. Three days. She’d underestimated the severity of her punishment slightly. Taking out her scroll, she tapped a message to Riko.

_This is Winter. I’m afraid I won’t be available until three days from now, I’m under strict orders. Is that date acceptable?_

Winter hadn’t expected a reply for a while, but she was surprised to see one pop up almost as soon as she sent the message.

_That’s alright, I don’t have any plans on Friday either. I’ll try to find a good place!_

Winter smiled faintly. Considering that she was really only in contact with her snobbish family and other military personnel, the informality was… charming. Or perhaps she just didn’t find it grating because it was Riko doing it.

Turning on her back, Winter sighed. Three days stuck in this room. So much for her idea to relax on the beach and lazily wander the town. What was supposed to be a vacation for a job well done had turned into house arrest. All for the unforgivable crime of _helping someone_.

She’d make sure to make a full report of all this. Making a direct complaint wouldn’t do anything- he was within his rights. But keeping it documented how little he cared about civilians would hurt his long term career prospects.

Putting aside her plans for revenge, she reached for her scroll and brought up a familiar album. If she was being denied the sound of the ocean, she might as well listen to something else soothing. And, well… hearing Riko’s voice again had left her wanting to hear more of it. Perhaps one of her solo songs...

* * *

Winter had expected to pass three days in utter boredom and isolation. So it came as a surprise to her when her scroll buzzed early the next day.

_Hello, Miss Schnee. What are you doing today? Or is it classified?_

Winter chuckled a little at “Miss Schnee”. Riko’s informality was charming, but her attempts to be formal were cute as well.

_Ah, good morning Miss Sakurauchi. My activities list is not classified. I am merely resting to rebuild my aura and heal my injuries from the mission._

She paused for a moment, considering whether to leave it that. Her urge to tease Riko a little won out over her fear of scaring her off.

_And those from the sortie yesterday, as well._

Pressing send, she mused that her commander probably hadn’t intended her to have any outside contact. Well, such was the risk of not specifying your orders explicitly. She had not been ordered to cease all external communications, and so she would not do so.

Riko’s reply came quickly.

_I’m.. sorry about that. Thank you again for saving me. You were really cool when you fought the Grimm._

Winter smiled. ‘Cool’, was it? Hmm. Riko couldn’t have seen very much of the fight, given that part of it was underwater and Riko must have been fleeing for much of it. Still, apparently what she had seen had impressed.

_Well, it wouldn’t have sat well with me to simply let you be killed. Why, exactly, were you out there unarmed in the first place?_

Winter hadn’t asked at the time, but if Riko was going to insist on making conversation, she had only herself to blame that the subject had come up.

Riko’s reply came a lot more slowly than the previous ones. Winter had time to do her daily stretches and a bit of light exercise. It was unwise to train too hard when she was resting, but letting her physical condition go completely would only hinder her recovery.

Finally her phone beeped again.

_It wasn’t a very good reason or anything. I just wanted to hear the sea. I thought that the hunters had dealt with all the Grimm, so I didn’t realize it would still be dangerous._

Winter sighed to herself.

_You shouldn’t make that sort of assumption. Outside of the kingdoms, Grimm are only ever driven off, not completely wiped out. Once a place has been marked by them, any negative emotions can bring them back._

After she sent the message she allowed herself to ponder for a moment. Just what negative emotions had Riko felt, alone there on the beach, that had drawn the grimm to her?

Riko didn’t choose it to bring it up, and Winter decided not to pry.

* * *

Over the next three days, Winter and Riko sent a lot of messages back and forth, and Winter learned quite a lot about Riko and Aquors. She learned about how Riko had moved away from Mistral, how she ended up in Aquors, and even heard some quite amusing stories about Riko’s bandmate Chika.

More surprising, though, was how much Riko ended up finding out about her.

At first, she’d been reluctant to say anything. Even saying the name “Schnee” already set up a lot of expectations, and while she was perfectly capable of living up to her reputation, it could become quickly tiresome to play public relations for her father’s latest outrageous decisions. As if she had any real desire to defend his behaviour. If he wasn’t the holder of the Schnee name, she’d be just as happy to denounce him as he’d been to disown her.

But, it wasn’t that simple. She still was proud of her name. He could take the estate from her, but he could never stop her from being a Schnee. So she was determined to minimize the damage to their name that his short-sightedness caused.

Still, Winter found it hard to completely turn aside Riko’s innocent questions, and soon she’d told her about her decision to join the military, explained her hereditary semblance, and told the story of how she’d first seen Aquors. Alongside that had been a million little points of trivia- her fondness for fish, her favourite colour, what kinds of music she enjoyed other than Aquors, and any other number of small little facts like those. None of it was particularly secret, but it was information that Winter rarely shared.

Then again, it was rare for anyone to ask.

On Thursday, Riko finally revealed the location for their date. It was a small local place, a seaside diner that Riko assured her was the best place to enjoy locally caught and prepared fish. Winter spent most of the rest of the day researching it, ensuring that it had a good health inspection score, that the business had good ethics, that customers tended to review it well.

In the end, she came to the conclusion that it was a suitable choice. She might even be willing to go as far as saying she was looking forward to it.

* * *

“Well, Schnee,” her commander said, regarding her stiffly standing at attention with visible distaste. “We’re not leaving just yet. Jakobs and Mika are still too roughed up to travel, and a couple of the Mistralians are shaky too. But, I suppose if you’re feeling up to it, you can have your run of the town.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No heroics, though. You may be healed, but you’re not fully recovered, and I want you to _stay_ healed, understood?”

“Yes sir,” Winter said, her gaze unwavering and her stance firm.

“...” The commander glared for a moment longer and then waved his hand. “Dismissed,” he grumbled, returning to his scroll.

Winter saluted and returned to her room.

Now, what to wear? She hadn’t exactly packed eveningwear. In fact, she hadn’t packed any civilian clothes at all. Why would she have? She hadn’t expected to spend any time on leave until she’d returned, let alone go on a date.

She paused for a moment to consider it. She was going on a _date_. When she was on unscheduled leave in another kingdom, on the other side of the world from Atlas. What on earth was she thinking? She almost took out her scroll to cancel, but stopped herself. What harm was there? She was accepting a free meal from someone she’d helped. It couldn’t go anywhere, sure, but it didn’t need to. She could just enjoy it for what it was on the surface.

That still left her with her current problem, however. She could have tried to find somewhere to buy clothes in town, but she highly suspected the selection would be as uninspiring as the selection of beachwear had been, and she didn’t have leave to go to the larger settlement nearby. Although, speaking of beachwear, she could always show up to the date in her bikini and claim that she’d been swimming. A smile flickered across her face. That would certainly keep Riko’s attention on her.

Still, she wasn’t some poolside bore with no sense of decorum. She refused to go to a nice dinner dripping with seawater and with half her body bared to the world. In the end, she picked the most normal looking of her uniforms, hoping that Riko was the kind to find uniforms charming rather than off-puttingly formal. With that resolved, Winter strode out of the inn to confirm the directions she’d found to the restaurant. If she knew exactly where it was, she could ensure that she arrived on time that evening.

* * *

She was two minutes early.

Winter scolded herself for being overeager, but entered anyway, scanning the tables for Riko. No sign of her. Well, she _was_ early, after all.

Striding over to a waiter, she cleared her throat to get his attention and stared imperiously down at him. “Greetings. I’m here for the reservation under Sakurauchi.”

The waiter gave her an odd look. “Reservation?” he asked, quizzically. “I don’t… think we have any of those.”

Winter frowned. “...A table for two, then,” she said, icily. The waiter gulped and nervously led her to a table near the window.

It was another five minutes before Riko arrived, out of breath. After a quick conversation with the waiter, he pointed over at Winter. Riko brightened and rushed over.

“Hi,” she said, sliding into the seat opposite her. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Hmm,” Winter said disapprovingly. “There didn’t appear to be a reservation, either.”

Riko shrunk down in her chair a little. “They don’t… really do reservations,” she said nervously.

Winter took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap, willing herself to be friendly. It wouldn’t do any good to terrify Riko. She had… tried, at least. Even if she hadn’t met Winter’s exacting standards perhaps she could be… forgiving.

“...Very well,” Winter said, picking up a menu. “It is nice to see you again, Riko.”

“It’s nice to see you as well. Is that… a uniform?” Riko asked, peering at her outfit.

“Yes,” Winter said, not looking up from the menu. “Regrettably, I did not bring any civilian clothing with me on the mission.”

She had tried to find the menu online, but it seemed that this establishment was the kind that was driven by the catch of the day, and so researching the choice in advance was difficult. She had constructed a rough profile of what they tended to excel at, however, and was scanning to see if anything particularly well reviewed was on offer today. It appeared not.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Winter asked, lowering her menu. She hadn’t really noticed earlier, but Riko seemed to be quite dressed up. She felt slightly self conscious. She was utterly lacking in makeup, a few years Riko’s senior, and wearing a uniform. Riko, however, had all the style and charm you would expect from an idol.

Riko scanned the menu quickly with the practiced eye of someone who’d seen most of it before. “Ah, the tuna is good,” she said.

Winter raised an eyebrow, mentally sifting through some angry complaints about the tuna she’d read. Well, there was no point second guessing her. She’d trusted her to pick a restaurant, after all.

“Sounds lovely,” she said, setting her menu down.

“So, did you have much of a chance to look around today?” Riko asked.

“Oh, I saw a few things,” Winter said. “It’s quite a charming little town.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Riko said, smiling wistfully as she looked out the window.

“When I first came here, I was sort of… lost,” she said, still watching the ocean rather than Winter. “Aquors, and this town, helped me find myself and my art again. I owe them both a lot.”

Winter watched her silently. This was a side of Riko she hadn’t really seen before. She realized that it might be her first glimpse of the part of Riko that idol fans didn’t see. The thought was quite flattering.

“You play the piano as well as singing, correct?” Winter asked. “That must have been something you started before Aquors.”

“Ah, yes,” Riko said, startled out of her contemplative mood by Winter’s voice. A shame. “I’ve been doing it since I was young.”

“You still are young,” Winter said.

Riko frowned. “Since I was a kid, I mean,” she said. She still looked bothered. “You’re not _that_ much older than me,” she added.

Ah. The age difference, it seemed, was weighing on Riko. Perhaps Winter’s formality was exacerbating the problem.

“No, you’re right,” Winter said, smiling as the waiter approached to take their orders. “We’re both still young.”

* * *

The tuna, contrary to popular reviewer belief, was excellent. The fish itself was fresh and a fine specimen, and its preparation matched the quality of the ingredients. The conversation died down somewhat as the two of them were distracted with eating.

Of course, Winter’s manner were honed by fine society. She could have easily carried on a conversation, no matter how good the meal was. But if Riko was content to share a little silence while they appreciated the fish, who was she to argue?

Eventually, though, she did speak up.

“This is delicious, Riko. An excellent recommendation.”

Riko paused in eating for a moment to smile at her, swallowing her current mouthful.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said. “And the town too.”

She pushed a bit of a tuna around her plate with her fork awkwardly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t,” she admitted. “You seem so refined. I was worried that all this seemed… provincial to you.”

“Hmmm,” Winter hummed, not able to fully deny the accusation. “I admit that I find parts of this place rather…” she glanced over at the waiter, who appeared to be flirting with the chef. “...Lacking in polish. But it’s a very nice place, Riko. I can see why you care for it.”

Tenting her fingers together, Winter leaned forward slightly, capturing Riko’s gaze. “Despite its dangers.”

She allowed the sentence to fall on its own. She was, as she mentioned earlier, not Riko’s mother. If Riko didn’t wish to explain her recklessness, she had no obligation to. But from what Winter had seen of her, she felt that it was unusual. And that perhaps it was not merely forgetfulness about the nature of Grimm.

Riko let out a sigh and smiled weakly.

“When I first came here,” she said, her voice soft. “I was in a slump.”

She broke eye contact with Winter to stare out at the sea again. “I couldn’t play piano at all. When I tried, I just froze up. It was like… I’d lost something. My connection with the music.”

Winter folded her hands and listened in silence as Riko continued. “I wanted to hear the sound of the sea. And with Chika and You’s help… I did. And it worked.” She turned back to Winter and her smile was a little stronger. “I could play again, for Aquors. And for my own piano. But…”

She drummed her fingers on the table and bit her lip. “...I was in love with Chika for a while.”

Winter started. This hardly seemed like appropriate date conversation. From the apologetic look on Riko’s face, she knew it, but she pressed on. “I confessed, but… she never really gave me an answer. I don’t know if she really ever… understood my feelings.”

Winter nodded sympathetically. It wasn’t uncommon, especially in Anima, to run into someone who simply… didn’t think of people of the same gender like that. Even when it was staring them in the face.

“For a while, it didn’t matter. I was still happy with Aquors, and happy being friends with all of them. It was still easy to find my connection to the music. But…”

She sighed. “We started writing love songs, recently. And these days Chika seems to have some connection to them. But not to me.” She frowned. “It… got hard to compose again. I knew there was a risk, going out there when there might be Grimm, but… I thought if I could hear the sea again, it would make everything okay again. That I’d be able to feel the music again.”

“I see,” Winter said. “Did it work?”

Riko’s expression turned odd. “Um… sort of…”

“Sort of?” Winter asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t… really hear the sound of the sea,” Riko said. “But I felt like I could write again, anyway.”

Winter raised her eyebrow higher. Riko was being surprisingly evasive all of a sudden.

“I see,” she said diplomatically. Certainly, this story explained why the Grimm had appeared. Out alone on a pier, the pain of heartbreak mixing with the fear of losing her her musical ability again… It would be like a beacon to any of the creatures in the area. She was lucky there had only been one.

“So, did you ever play an instrument?” Riko asked, changing the subject in a somewhat blatant manner.

Well, that was fine. Winter was perfectly willing to switch to lighter topics.

* * *

They talked for a long time. Long enough that the restaurant began to empty out, leaving the two of them at their table with their meals long finished chatting over drinks. Conversation came easily to Winter when Riko was with her. She found herself laughing more than she had in years, and smiling more as well. It was… nice.

Eventually, though, her scroll made a pinging noise, and she glanced down to see the alert she’d set earlier going off. It was getting late. Too late.

“Regrettably, Riko, I’m afraid I have to cut things short here,” she said with a sigh. “Our unit’s curfew is soon.”

“Oh,” Riko said, her voice laden with disappointment. “Can we meet again sometime?”

Winter smiled slightly. “I’d like that, if possible,” she said. “But we may well leave tomorrow.”

Riko bit her lip. “Oh,” she said again, her voice quiet.

“I had a lovely time this evening, Riko,” she said, standing to leave. “And you have my contact information.”

Riko smiled, standing to leave with her. They’d paid long again, Riko insisting on covering the bill as thanks for the rescue. Winter hadn’t had the heart to argue.

At the door to the restaurant, Winter hesitated for a moment.

Riko sprung at the opportunity. “I-” she said, and then cut herself off and fidgeted. “There was more to the story. About why I was on the beach.”

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t hear the sound of the ocean when I jumped into the water. But… when you saved me, I felt something like what I did back when I did.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small scroll drive, handing it to Winter.

“I… wrote this,” she said. “I-It’s not really an Aquors song, none of them really know about it, but… I want you to have it.” She was turning redder with each word, and when Winter took the drive, she started sliding away.

“I-I had a really good time! And… if you do have more time, I’d love to go on another date.”

Winter smiled, and Riko seemed to realize that she’d just admitted it wasn’t just a thank you dinner. Turning even redder, somehow, she mumbled “Okay, good night!” and fled, leaving Winter holding the drive and chuckling. Well, well. A song that wasn’t an Aquors song, written by Riko after Winter had saved her.

She may have walked a little faster than entirely necessary on the way back to the inn. If she had, it was probably just to make sure she didn’t miss curfew.

But maybe a little bit of her was excited to hear the song.

 


	3. Decision

Winter forced herself to reach over and stop the song repeating again.

It wasn’t the first time she’d listened to it. It wasn’t even the tenth. But she still couldn’t quite believe it.

Aquors songs weren’t very subtle, on the whole. They were, after all, sort of fun, light music, not the kind you’d want to sit and analyze. Straightforward worked well for them. Riko, it seemed, either had a lot of impact on the songs, or had taken a lot of lessons from them, because her song was equally straightforward.

It was straightforwardly a love letter.

There it was. The thing that there was no getting around. At first Winter had sworn she must have misunderstood or misheard, but she’d listened to the song enough times now that she could replay every second in her mind, and she hadn’t been mistaken.

Riko, after saying that she was having trouble writing because the subject was love and Chika _wasn’t_ struggling, had said that Winter rescuing her had changed that. And then she’d written a love song for Winter.

It wasn’t as if Winter had never had admirers. She had even, in the charming local parlance, been “confessed to”, and in some cases she felt that a _confession_ was exactly the tone of the proposal. She’d made no secret of her disinterest, and even when it became base chatter that she theoretically preferred women, she had been steadfast in refusing offers from _anyone,_ regardless of gender.

The problem was that Winter didn’t really want to shoot Riko down.

When she listened to the song - _her_ song - it made her heart beat faster. She was flattered. Happy. Se _duced_ , even. Furthermore, she had enjoyed spending time with Riko. She had enjoyed their date. And she admired Riko as a performer and musician. If things were different, and she lived in Anima, and had some dull company job for Schnee Dust, then there would be no reason to turn her down.

But that wasn’t reality.

She didn’t live in Anima. She didn’t push pencils for her father’s lackeys. She was an Atlas soldier, a special agent, sent far and wide across the kingdoms for dangerous and secret missions. Even within the military, a relationship would be hard to maintain. Outside of it? For someone who wasn’t even combat trained? Unthinkable.

She sighed and started the song again, closing her eyes and lying back on her bed.

* * *

_Riko. I regret to inform you that we’re leaving. I will not be able to receive civilian communications for roughly a week while I am back on duty. It was lovely to meet you. Please stay in touch in future._

It was cowardly. None of it was untrue, but it was cowardly.

Winter sent it anyway, and activated the switch in her scroll  that disabled her civilian number. It was standard procedure for missions- having your stealth compromised by a friend calling was, of course, unacceptable.

Even if they were just returning to base, they were technically on mission. She was in a hurry, and she wanted to let Riko down properly, not brusquely. That was why she hadn’t turned her down in that text and had immediately shut everything off before Riko could demand a response.

She knew that wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was harder to admit. Something she shouldn’t be doing.

She wanted to pretend a little longer.

She wanted to make believe that her and Riko could date. That this was just a struggle that military couples had to deal with, and that once she was back in Atlas they could start texting again, and video chat, and maybe Riko could come to visit- it wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford to fly between the kingdoms. She wanted to pretend that she wasn’t just putting off saying no when she wanted to say yes.

* * *

The entire journey home, she couldn’t think of anything else.

It was starting to affect her. She was making mistakes in training, getting distracted staring out of a window and missing her commander barking orders. She couldn’t let it go on like this.

Luckily, as irritated as her commander was at this newfound incompetence, he could do very little about it. She had performed well on the mission, and wasn’t being openly insubordinate or lazy on the return. The worst he could do would be to suggest in his report that she might need psychiatric evaluation, that the injuries on the mission had affected her mentally. That could result in her advancement being stalled out while she convinced psychiatrists that she was fine, and end with a little footnote in her file that could expose her to greater scrutiny down the line.

But he was an idiot, so he wouldn’t think of that. He’d complain in his report that she was terrible, and given her performance on the actual mission, everyone would ignore his remarks as unfounded or spiteful.

As much as Winter disliked it, she had to admit that her upbringing had been quite the boon in her career. Aside from the rigorous training she’d undergone, which was obviously useful in a fairly straightforward way, politics were the same everywhere. The same tactics and ways of thinking that put you ahead as a socialite worked just fine to smoothly accelerate you towards promotion in the military.

And in both fields, those who were unsubtle and quick to anger were easily brushed aside by the sly and the careful.

* * *

Winter sighed as she closed her door behind her and sat heavily on the couch in her apartment.

Turning the TV to a news program she was barely listening to, she pulled her scroll out of her pocket and stared at.

There was no point in delaying any further. Idlily half worrying about her review was a waste of time, and she knew it. She was back in Atlas. She was back in her own home. She was on leave, officially this time, not a break in operations like in Anima. There was no reason why her phone should be on military mode any more. She should contact people to let them know she was back in town safely. Maybe she should even talk to Weiss.

And she needed to respond to Riko.

Reluctantly, she pulled it open and ticked it back to civilian mode.

Immediately, missed texts started popping up.

She hadn’t been out of communication _that_ long, so there weren’t very many. Most of the people she knew didn’t text her much unless they knew she was on leave, since she’d be unlikely to get the text otherwise. She sent out a few responses to the queries that weren’t out of date like “are you in town this weekend”. The number of unread texts dwindled to three.

All from Riko.

_Oh. It’s too bad I couldn’t see you in person to say goodbye… Have a safe trip!_

Sent right after her last text. Then, within a day.

_Did you listen to the song? What did you think?_

Not long after.

_...I see. I’m sorry for bothering you._

Well. That was nice and simple. Riko had gotten the message. Winter could just text her to let her know that she back in Atlas safely, and both of them would know what ignoring Riko’s last two texts meant. Hopefully they could just ignore the awkwardness as stay as friends.

It was better this way. It saved Winter the effort.

So why did she feel like her chest was being crushed in a vice?

“...and a small village in Anima has suffered a major Grimm attack…”

Winter glanced up as she heard the news broadcast switch to a breaking story. When they cut to footage of the attack, her blood ran cold.

It was Uchiura.

“...casualties are as of yet uncounted, but they appear to number in the dozens, a shocking number for a settlement as small as…”

Winter desperately grabbed at her scroll, calling Riko’s number in a panic.

It ran once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five ti-

“Hello?”

“Riko! Thank god, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, I wasn’t in the part of town the Grimm hit…”

Winter let out a sigh of relief that ended in something like a sob.

“...Why are you calling?” Riko’s voice was slightly hesitant, but it was firm. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking. The second part was unspoken. ‘Why did you call in a panic instead of sending a text? How do you feel about me?’

Winter could deflect. Say that even if she couldn’t return Riko’s feelings, she still wanted to be her friend and cared if she was okay. She opened her mouth to say just that. It wasn’t what came out.

“I was so worried when I heard the news,” Winter started. It was still recoverable. Reel it back. “I just called without even thinking about it. I’m sorry, it’s late…”

“...Did you listen to the song?”

Winter froze. She’d hoped Riko would back down. It seemed like what she would do. She’d let that Chika girl go without her even realizing what Riko really felt, hadn’t she?

But Riko wasn’t letting it drop this time. Maybe because she regretted doing so before. Maybe because she knew Winter knew exactly what she meant. Maybe just because she wasn’t as afraid of losing Winter as a friend.

“...I did,” Winter said carefully.

“What did you think?” Riko pressed.

“...It was beautiful,” Winter said quietly. “I was very happy- am very happy- that you feel that way.”

She took a deep breath. “But it can’t work. You live in a different kingdom entirely. I’m away on military business I can’t even tell you about most of the time. It wouldn’t wo-”

“It can work.” Riko’s voice was firm and determined. “I don’t care you can’t tell me where you are. I don’t care if I have to live in Atlas. It _can_ work.”

She hesitated. “...If you feel the same.”

Winter bit her lip. She should just say no. Let Riko down gently, and not have her discover first hand that this relationship would fail, just like all the others.

“I do.”

She couldn’t do it. What was wrong with her? She’d only known Riko a few days, and already her heart held complete sway over her mind.

“I’m interested in dating you as well, Riko,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Our lives are too different, and my life isn’t a good fit for dating. It won’t work ou-”

“It will!” Riko said, loudly. “It will. I’ll make it work. Just like Aquors made it work.”

Winter laughed a little. “...I hope so,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t think you’re right. I should know better. But I want to believe you.”

“Then do.”

Winter sighed. “Riko…”

“Please.”

Riko’s voice was desperate. It sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “Just give me a chance.”

Winter rubbed her temples with her hand not holding the scroll. She should have never let it get this far. There wasn’t a good ending to this anymore. She was just picking between having both their hearts broken now or later. But either way, their friendship wasn’t going to survive.

She was seized by a sudden maniac carefree impulse. Why not try? What more did she have to lose?

“...Alright,” she said. “We can try.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d “tried” a relationship like this. They didn’t work. But it was obvious that just being friends was off the table. So she’d enjoy it while it lasted, even if she knew it would end sooner rather than later.

* * *

“Something on your mind?” Riko asked. The two of them were lying together on the couch, Riko curled up in Winter’s arms as they quietly relaxed.

“Just remembering how we met,” Winter said, smiling faintly. “This really shouldn’t have worked out, you know.”

Riko smiled. “Aquors shouldn’t have worked either,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning back against Winter. “But we made it work then. And we’re making this work now.”

“I suppose so,” Winter said.

It had been years now since their first date in Uchiura. In the time since, Winter had been promoted twice, Riko had moved to Atlas, and they’d gotten an apartment together. It had all seemed to happen so fast. After the Grimm attack, Riko had moved to Atlas. The first time Winter went on extended leave had been the hardest. Riko’s father passed away when Winter was only half way through her mission, and the weight of Winter not being there to support her emotionally after she’d moved a kingdom away from all her friends had been a heavy load for their relationship to bear. But somehow, someway, they’d stayed together despite it. After the second time Winter returned from leave, Riko pointed out that it was silly for them to have seperate places when Winter’s apartment was left unlived in so often. And so they’d moved in together, and, well, at that point, Winter felt that this relationship might actually last.

It wasn’t perfect, of course. As much as Riko was delightful, sometimes her youthful naivete was frustrating, and Winter’s career was still a wedge between them even if Riko accepted it. But despite all that, despite their occasional fights, they’d stayed together. Whenever Winter came home on leave, Riko was waiting for her. It seemed like a small thing, but it was a kind of warmth that Winter had never really had before, and it meant more to her than she’d ever thought it could have.

Every day they spent together, Winter found it harder and harder to imagine life without Riko.

Pulling Riko close, Winter kissed her on the forehead, earning another smile.

“Riko,” she said quietly, and Riko opened her eyes to glance up at her. “I love you.”

Riko’s smile grew wider, and she glowed with all the intensity that Winter remembered from seeing her up on stage all that time ago.

“I love you too, Winter.”

 


End file.
